Deliberately nad Neander—which still ans New Man—the project to communicate with and study the archaic human, who was taken as a study subject, ca to a surprising fruition.
Professor Hendrick's Privateers, the active militant group that had been inactive since the winter, took a full swing at the region. They were given custody of Neander, with the task of returning to the Military with so study results, to let them know what they were dealing with. The Professor took the job with enthusiasm, feeling a bit of pity for the primal man, but after doing a CBC test (Complete Blood Count), even the gentle Professor no longer saw this Neander as he once did.
The first verdict that ca to the professor was "definitely alien," but he was smart enough to keep it to himself. If that crazy Nun, who was roaming town day and night preaching the Enlightennt of Sol, were to hear of this assessnt, she would show up with all the fanaticism and craziness she possessed and demand sothing absurd, sothing that prompted Hendrick to roll his eyes.
As for the test itself, it returned with insanely high hematocrit and red blood cell counts, a sign of high adaptability to cold and low-oxygen environnts. The Professor also had his microbiology students confirm the presence of interesting hemoglobin variants in Neander's blood that bind oxygen more effectively than the usual one found in human blood.
That was usually within expectations when dealing with such a specin, but as the Professor checked the White Blood Cell count, he found them in an abnormal form that didn’t match normal morphology. On top of that, their count was already high, even with Neander showing no signs of sickness. This all ant that the creature's immune system was in a permanent "war mode" for so reason, granting him high resistance to infections and the like.
Even more, Neander's body was basically always in ketosis, as if designed for raw at and starvation cycles, breaking fat into ketones when carbohydrates were insufficient. Neander refused most food that was not at, showing an abnormal liver enzy profile, which was alarming for the professor, who couldn't explain the anomaly of this dietary pattern.
What was also alarming was how the clotting ti was ridiculously short, and the blood platelets were unusually active, indicating that bleeding wasn't as much of an issue as blood clots were, but Neander looked perfectly fine as he was.
Last but not least were the abnormal traces of iron, manganese, and rcury residues in the blood. The Professor couldn't make heads or tails of this one, since they didn't co from food for sure, and the creature sustained them at constant levels that weren't really near poison level.
With that report submitted to Adam Clay, it surely made the inquisitive Justiciar silent for a while, but there was little he could do as this level of reports was the best that could be offered by the current scientific capabilities of the camp. Adam made a few notes in front of the professor, including how an army of Neanders would be difficult to bleed out, so he would rather face them with shocking and destructive force.
The professor was clearly unamused by Adam's comnt, seeing that the young man had beco more of the militant type he always found unpleasant, always thinking of a way to weaponize sothing or exploit its weaknesses. Such people were always looking to make science into a weapon, no matter the cost, and the professor always tried to stay clear of them back before the world fell, but now, even he had to succumb to a logic he loathed.
With his mind busy, the Professor would always find himself sitting alone and thinking of what could have been. Since he was practically the leader of a Privateer Group, he had his own space to sit around and think endlessly. Actually, his group was given an entire warehouse that they could do whatever they wanted in, despite the fact that the population density of the camp was on the brink of exploding.
He was still thankful for the perks but wary of the price, but the work he was doing was crucial. His students would go out on the field, collect Rift monsters and materials, then bring them back to study, before submitting the results to the military and getting weapon shipnts and special treatnt for it. Even Adam Clay would send him the stuff the military found, fully committing the Professor to a blissful life of research, one that he was thankful for, and proud that his students, who studied various fields, were also following in his footsteps.
But on quiet nights such as this, ones where work and research would take healthy breaks, the professor would find himself isolated in his own mind… more like his own heart.
The Alfari were one more fascination that kept him going, and he was lucky enough to be the trade middleman between them and the military, but ever since they moved to this base, sothing had shifted about those wondrous otherworlders. They would co to the agreed eting locations with their flying saucers; they would accept the food bars produced by the grub processors and exchange them for their wonderful spices; they would still try to obtain information about runestones, but would leave afterwards very coldly.
Even the Professor felt like they no longer paid attention to him, he, who was a Sage in their culture.
In tis like these, one face would always find its way to the Professor's mind and would intrude upon his old heart most often.
"Kahori."
He would find himself muttering the na of the Alfari envoy, a woman of alien beauty, of gentle words, of curious eyes, and of deep shrewdness.
He never had much luck in love most of his life, and he embraced being alone in his late years, committing his heart and mind to science. But in a hopeless place, that woman found him.
"Sage… Sage Hendrick…"
The man's head imdiately perked up to the familiar voice with a face that was just looming over his thoughts, suddenly appearing in the wide space of the warehouse.
"I… can't believe it!"
He imdiately stood up, facing the face he missed sorely.
His wrinkles of age twitched, almost not believing what he was seeing her. A million questions blood from his mind, from his heart, and from the soul he always believed to be nothing but a fairy tale.
"How… how are you here?" That was the question he found himself asking: "The guards, the patrols, the trenches… how were you able to…"
The question died as he thought about it. He wasn't sure if he said it out loud or simply thought of it, but he sohow felt he was able to rectify that stupid question. Start with sothing… friendlier.
"Kahori… I thought I wouldn't see you again…"
Instead, he sounded more desperate. Not the tone he needed, no. Maybe firm, more dignified, more… Sage-like.
"Envoy Kahori…" It felt professional, too cold, but he could work up from there, "Seeing you here…" He paused for a while before thinking of the things she taught him during their short stay together, "It warms my cold day."
For so reason, after fumbling twice so far, he could feel that this was the right way to start. Graceful, even; the right mix of intimacy and professionalism, Kahori used to perform.
"Upon the break of this fine dawn, I find myself thinking of you, Sage… Anthony." She said, her grayish skin showing a warm blush, her eyes changing colors as if she was blinking even without eyelids.
Too alien, yet too familiar. The Professor stepped ahead and smiled, slling the faint rosy scent of the Alfari woman.
"How have you been?" He asked with friendliness, still glad they were on a first-na basis, "The winter was so cold, I thought the stars would freeze before we spoke again."
"It is by a greater will we et again. Fate always charts a path for those who share minds that yearn to et." Kahori replied, then a smile blood on her face, "I have been doing fine. I changed path for a moon, joined my mother in a grower pilgrimage, and we harvested a plentiful harvest."
"I am glad you have been well." The Professor said.
"What about you, my friend? What have you been up to since the day we last t?" She asked, her voice gentle with a lodious tone.
The Professor felt more yearning, one he couldn't explain at the mont, but still felt the urge to prolong this conversation further.
"I have been doing well." He replied, "I t a new friend, the third kind of otherworldly entity so far. I believe him to be so, but he has so much resemblance to our kind. A very primitive kind of human, but there seems to be sothing extra about him. Very fascinating!" The Professor said with glee.
The Professor's enthusiasm was t with a flat stare from Kahori, who tilted her head, prompting the man to halt his speech with worry. She then asked him a rapid string of questions…
"Always in ketosis, ridiculously short clotting ti, abnormal liver enzy profile, rcury residues in the blood?" Kahori spoke fast, putting lines of cold scientific facts together like a computer.
The Professor felt a hot feeling of dread swelling through his chest; his heart started to beat faster, and he felt he was sweating.
"Miss Kahori… what are you…"
"Think, Anthony. Think." Kahori's tone and behavior suddenly shifted. "We don't have enough ti. The answer is right there! Alien physiology shouldn't make sense. Green blood, mind parasites, graying corpses. Why all of a sudden does an alien have such human-like signs, even if they were off the charts?"
Anthony looked at Kahori's eyes. Fear took over him as they morphed from their Alfari heavenly almond shape to human-like, almost a strange mix that made him shudder.
"There is not much ti left! Think!" Kahori said once again, urging him to think of sothing he was missing, before his mind flashed with a thought.
He looked at his left wrist where his watch should be, and as he tried to figure out the ti, he couldn't even see the clock hands.
He… he was dreaming!
The mont he realized that, he mustered all his willpower and forced his eyes open, now fully awake in the chair he was in.
Right in front of him, there was Neander, standing at the edge of the cage, holding the bars, and muttering strange words. Fire was spreading in tendrils from his surroundings.
"What! How?" The Professor couldn't help but bark, but as he looked around, he saw the tendrils of fire trying to reach the walls, looking for sothing flammable.
"NO!"
Without thinking, the old man jumped to the table not too far from him and grabbed the weapon that was forced upon him by almost all his students. He switched it to tranquilizer darts and aid at Neander.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Three darts flew in succession, all landing right at the chest of the primal man who still held on sohow, even with his body visibly trying to fall.
Swoosh!
The Professor added a fourth dart, and it landed right on the left arm, but it was more effective than the rest, and as the arm slumped, the rest of Neander's body soon followed. Along with it, the strange fiery tendrils all disappeared.
The man lay on his back, his chest heaving and his body sweating. The Professor was in no better shape, having the fright of his life, and struggling with a million thoughts in one mind.
He imdiately looked around and found the Catch Pole that would be used to push Neander further into his cage, if a personnel needed to step inside. He held it and imdiately inserted it into the cage before snaring an arm with it and pulling it out. He then proceeded to shackle it to the bars before doing the sa to the other arm.
With his arms apart, the Professor thought he would at least keep Neander from doing anything like summoning those fire tendrils again.
He was just about to run outside and call for his students to inform the military about this situation, but just as he was about to turn, he spotted sothing beneath Neander's arm, a pattern… a drawing… no… they were letters.
Latin letters!
This Neander, he wasn't an alien all this ti… he was what Hendrick feared he would be… a Human… a Mutated Human!
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Far in the distance, a few miles outside the base, one figure stood over a ruined building, before it was joined by another.
Their Alfari features were clear, and their mother tongue felt alien even to the air molecules that reverberated with their faint voices.
"That was unwise." Samara spoke, glancing at her sister, "And painful from the looks of it."
"Sage Hendrick must be warned." Kahori replied, two fingers still lingering on the largest stone of the beaded necklace on her bosom, "But his Sage ability intruded and took over from … I was cut off abruptly."
"That's why you don't simply enter the mind of a Sage. You'll be outnumbered and overwheld." Samara said, pity in her voice.
The two sisters glanced in the direction from which they were sensing a massive disturbance in energy, and their faces looked serious.
"This hopefully gives them a fighting chance." Kahori said and exhaled a sigh, "With it, our debt to them should be considered paid."
"I hope Lord Kaimu sees this the sa way we do." Samara replied, skeptical in her tone.
"His social experint with humans won't last longer than this. He will lose interest soon, and we may move away from this barren frontier to the real playgrounds of this world." Kahori said with narrowed eyes, watching the hundred figures erging from afar in the snow, all marching towards the human base in Springhead.
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